It ain't sexy, but you've gotta do it

Since the beginning of the year, I've been working with my friend and client, Karen Schumacher, on reintroducing her pure soy candles to the public. Defining a strategy, users, a new look--even a new name, Heirloom Candles--was fun and sexy and exciting, and we are SO PROUD of the outcome. It was a blast working on the redesign and messaging. Except...now we have to sell some luxury candles, in an economy that's pretty much tanked, using PR instead of advertising because there just isn't a budget for advertising.

Now, I don't know anyone who loves cold-calling prospective clients. And I don't know anyone who loves a rejection letter--thankfully we've only gotten a couple of those.  But the fact of the matter is: once the sexy stuff is done, the grunt work of marketing begins.

Prior to redesigning Karen's candles, we spent a LOT of time on messaging: who are we targeting with this product? How and where do we hope to sell it? What makes Heirloom Candles different? How do we price them? What is our budget? If you haven't figured out your messaging fundamentals, get busy. You can't get "there" without a plan.

Once you've figured out fundamental messaging and goals, you need to reach out to the right people in the right places.

Considerable time must be spent on developing lists: store buyer lists,  media lists, "expert" lists...lists of every type for every occasion. And because one-size-fits all letters look like just that, you also need to spend some time tailoring your communications to the appropriate audience. "To Whom It May Concern" just doesn't cut it when the whole Internet is out there to help you find the specific contact information you need.

Then, when your communications are prepped and your lists have been vetted, it's time to get on the phone, write those notes and reach out to the folks you want to know you and your product. There's no easy solution--pitching a product or service requires two things: time and perseverance. And maybe patience! The payoff comes when you reach someone who says "we were just talking about that! I'd LOVE to see and hear more!" While it's no guarantee they'll stock you, it certainly puts a little wind in your sails and encourages you to dial that phone again. Because marketing and sales are fundamentally numbers games. The more you call, the more folks become likely to take a look at you and  your product.  Grunt work isn't sexy, but it's what makes things happen for you and your company. So take a deep breath and dive in...business is better when you do.

Safe in Body, Gustav Rocks Like a Hurricane

Right now, Hurricane Gustav is blowing Baton Rouge, Louisiana — my home town — to tatters. I've managed to get through to several important people either via phone or by text message: my mother and father, who watched as their next door neighbor's 70-foot oak tree smashed its owner's car and utility shed to smithereens; my brother on the other side of town, who said the storm wasn't nearly as big a deal as they'd thought (tell that to his wife, on lock-down at one of the city's largest hospitals); my friend Lynda Danos, who texted me that her family is blessedly alright in their home just outside of Lake Charles.

Lynda and her husband Willie, who until last year raised sugarcane as well as beef cattle on their farm in Iowa, LA, were devastated by Hurricane Katrina as it arrived on the doorstep of sugarcane harvest season. What cane managed to struggle upright again after the rain and wind and wasn't burned by whipping saltwater was almost impossible to harvest because of debris and bottomless muck in the field. I know she, and probably Willie too though he'd never admit it, cried an awful lot in the months following Katrina and her even more devastating, in agricultural terms, sister act Hurricane Rita. Lynda's parents lived with them for weeks as their home was rebuilt — putting off the repairs necessary on the Danos' own (just completed) new home. Financial anxiety preoccupied them well into 2006.

Katrina and Rita — the storms — weren't why my husband and I finally pulled up roots and left Louisiana. Those reasons were both personal and professional. Nevertheless, Louisiana is my home and my heart. And as I've watched a fist of wind and water smash down on my state just as it finally staggered to its knees after the storms of 2005, I feel absolutely helpless. And that makes me crazy. CNN, probably the most responsive news agency in the world, can't update fast enough for me. Looping satellite images of the storm coming onshore make me gnash my teeth. I'm almost relieved that meteorologists are predicting Hurricane Hanna and Tropical Storm (for the moment) Ike will head my way here in Atlanta.

Why? Because I learned close up the stories of the rural victims of Hurricane Rita and, to a lesser degree, Hurricane Katrina. While New Orleans' tragedy transfixed the country, Hurricane Rita swept into Louisiana and inflicted unimaginable damage to the state's agricultural economy and, consequently, producers. Millions of dollars in sugar, seafood, timber and cotton were ruined. Livestock literally blew or floated away, we never could figure out which; whole herds of cattle just...disappeared. 

But in those numbers there also were names and outcomes: in agriculture, your money is either in the ground or on the hoof until you take it to market. Which meant that as well as homes and fences, millions of dollars in 2005, 2006, even 2007 income for Louisiana producers blew away in Category 3 winds and torrential rains. Some of the best people in the world got their hats handed to them in less than 24 hours;  "Thanks for playing. Sorry, you lose." Mike Danna, an amazing professional photographer and my former boss, took photos — devastating in their immediacy and pain — of people who would likely never recover from the blow.

So again, why am I almost willing those tropical storms in the Atlantic head up the eastern seaboard? I wouldn't wish the same devastation on the producers in my adopted state of Georgia. To be sure, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But tonight I still can't reach some folks, and I'm anxiously waiting for the Weather Channel to update its report. So I think “Bring it on, Hanna honey. I can take it, but I just don't know how much more those folks in Louisiana can.” Prayers have been joined by tough talk in my head tonight, though I just saw on CNN that bulldozers are already plowing the roads along the coast. Looks like my precious friends are tough enough indeed.

Queens, Commercials and Underwear Essentials

Last post was June 11--wow. SOOO much has happened since then. It's been exciting, frustrating and exhausting, but hey--what else would I want?  :)

Just after the last post, I attended the Louisiana Farm Bureau annual meeting. It's one of my favorite events EVER--LFB is one of the last state Farm Bureaus in the U.S. to hold a Queen's Pageant. Being, I believe, a frustrated beauty queen in another life, I eat that stuff up with a spoon. Once again I sat with Vivian Anderson, wife of president Ronnie Anderson, and handicapped the contestants. We did well, but Wendell Miley, LFB's safety director, once again called the winner about 5 minutes into the contest. I don't know how he does it...he's been right almost every year.   

When I tell people about attending the Queen's Contest I get a lot of smirks and eye rolls--I don't deny it's an anachronism in today's world of "everyone's a winner." But the Queen will travel Louisiana for a year, attending events almost every weekend and logging up to 10,000 miles away from her family, to tell the story of agriculture. Each girl is grilled on her knowledge of the state's agriculture and issues that impact it. They have to really WANT it, and it shows.  So where I used to roll my eyes as well, I now think it's pretty cool too, in a sparkly sort of way. 

Also started working on some challenging rebranding work for that organization and it's subsidiary, the Louisiana Farm Bureau Insurance Companies. It's quite the David-Goliath story going up against Geico, Allstate and State Farm for business, but that's what makes the job so fun. Kudos to LFB Creative Director Lauren Thom for coming up with our theme...when the creative is finished I'll post for the oohs and aahs.  We'll also be able to prove effectiveness, the linchpin of any creative communications campaign. "How did it do?" "I don't know." just won't cut it. Can't wait to see the numbers.

I DID get to skip out for a long weekend somewhere in June between insanity and pandemonium--went to Gulf Shores with 2 best buds. I was so crazy and ready to run down to the beach I forgot to pack underwear. Many many lingering lingerie thanks to Maria and Nicole for stocking me up with an abundance of underpinnings upon my arrival.  :) AND I got my first tan in years. So bad for the skin, so good for the soul.  

Thanks, my friend, for checking back--sorry it's been so long since I posted. 

Teaching Children Manners and Values

I belong to a service called Help a Reporter Out (HARO). Reporters from all over the place ask for sources for their stories. It's pretty interesting what comes across as far as inquiries go...

So yesterday an inquiry came through asking: "For a story in a national parenting magazine, I'm seeking experts who can talk about teaching young kids (under 6) values -- how can kids better understand things like self-reliance, courage, respect? Are values still taught in today's high-paced world -- and why are they still important for kids to learn?" 

I was on that query like a duck on a junebug. Here was my response...your thoughts and comments are welcome!

"It is absolutely vital that parents teach their children values in this high-paced world. I know you asked for "experts" and I would say I am one -- I'm a mom of two boys, 7 and 2.5, and a communications consultant in Atlanta.

Already we are teaching our sons what used to be called "manners." Please, Thank you, No sir, Yes ma'am. Being kind, cleaning up after yourself, playing fair and more. My 2.5 year old clears his dishes, or at least brings them to me so I can put them on the counter because he can't reach. He already has responsibilities, such as picking up after himself and putting his shoes away. Why?

Because now is the time to train them in skills and behaviors that will serve them for a lifetime. Manners are vital when interacting with people of stature -- parents, sure, but also teachers and bosses. They also teach you how to demonstrate respect for others and resolve problems, such as sharing and playing "fair." Helping out around the house now with age-appropriate chores teaches them responsibility and job-sharing. It also diminishes their expectation that I am there to be the chief cook, bottle-washer, maid and laundress. i don't like doing those things any more than they do, and it helps them see that I'm a person, and together we all make up and work together as a family.

Some day, my boys will grow up. Their manners, from showing respect to using proper table and phone etiquette, will certainly help them in social and business settings. Being able to hold a conversation, use proper diction, shake hands and look someone in the eye while apologizing also will be valuable assets as they look for friends, jobs and mates. Judging from the apparent decline of manners and values in today's society, I hope my kids can set a good example by treating others as they hope to be treated.

Are we weird and rigid in our training? I don't think so -- it's really not very hard, either. It's repetition, repetition, repetition and little kids take that well. Eventually it becomes ingrained. My 7-year-old has beautiful manners (about 95% of the time--he IS only 7, after all!)"

It frankly surprised me that her question even included the idea of whether manners were necessary in today's world. To me, they're more vital than ever before. As news and views in America slip toward the more intolerant and judgmental, manners enable us to see another's point of view, and at least agree to disagree. Manners are about respect -- for others and ourselves. And what's more valuable than that?

Creaky Screen Doors Let in Memories

Do some smells trigger in you an immediate connection to another time and place? One for me is always the first smell of burnt leaves in fall. Even after 30 years, that smell puts me smack in the middle of my front yard, 12 or 13 years old, living on Selfridge Air National Guard Base in Mt. Clemens, MI. I was probably raking the leaves in that big old yard — no wonder I have an attachment.

I hadn't thought much about other triggers for memory until I was speaking on the phone yesterday to my friend and client Karen Schumacher, who lives in Husser, LA. She makes wonderful candles you'll be dying to buy in about two months...  :)

Karen is blessed to live in the country with her husband Hank, where they operate the Bald Cypress Cattle Company and her business, Heirloom Candles.  As four of her 10 grandchildren live on the farm with them, it was no surprise to have Dusty, one of her older grandsons, answer the phone when I called. He used the “kid intercom” to reach Karen--meaning he hollered out the door for her to come inside and talk to me. 

As she entered the house, I heard it: a sound that brought back so many memories for me from my grandparents' house in Louisiana where we spent most summers that it took my breath away: the creaking spring of an old-fashioned screen door.

That sound means to me:

Golden Guernsey ice cream from Kleinpeter Dairy, literally yellow with creamy deliciousness.  Topped with honey, it was the official harbinger of summer.

Sitting in my grandparents' kitchen sink watching the birds feed at the bird feeder with my grandfather, Ginny. He could identify every type of bird AND whistle its call. No wonder I thought he was the coolest grandpa ever.

Smelling the Community Coffee "fresh-o-lator" full of dark roasted grounds. In Louisiana, most kids are started on coffee in their toddlerhood and I was no different. Even today if I buy another brand I feel guilty.

Catching green garden lizards with my brothers and seeing if we could get them to bite and hang on our earlobes like earrings.

Climbing in my grandparents' fig tree and eating those luscious purple fruits 'til we were sick. And then doing it again the next summer.

My grandmother, Maggie, has been gone for many years now--she died when I was in college. My grandfather, now almost 98, met precious Eddie and had another 18 years of happiness with her after Maggie died. When I was in Louisiana last week on business, I went to see Ginny, and it was bittersweet. He is in a wheelchair now, his skin almost translucent with age. He always tells me he's tired, and that he's not supposed to still be here, when my mom is out of the room. Let me tell you, there's nothing appropriate you can say to that, to a man who's played thousands of hands of poker, caught probably about a million fish, lost two wives and countless friends, and seen at least six wars in his lifetime. He's lived. A lot.

So maybe, when I heard Karen's screen door creak, that was God giving me my grandpa back in all his vigor one last time. Because creaky screen doors now mean a cardinal's flashing brightness, a damn good cup of coffee, and Louisiana summers with my grandpa. And those memories will never grow old.